· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 synopsis: a flight back home, a stolen diary, and your brothers best friend. Suddenly your once unattainable dreams of finding ‘the one’ don’t seem so far away…until they’re ripped right out from underneath you.
.𖥔˚ The summer between freshman and sophomore year, a time usually spent drinking and pretending to find yourself in the midst of college chaos. But not for you, for you it’s spent in a chase that you weren’t sure you signed up for — with a costar that you’re not positive you can stand. A harsh fling, a loud bang, and hearts being ripped from chests alike. You were so heavenly screwed, they didn’t tell you how to deal with this dilemma in when harry met sally.
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 content warnings: modern!au, college!au (not really), summer fling trope, bbf!ellie, fem!reader, age gap (2 years), avoidant attachment!ellie, forced proximity, angst, reader is a romcom fein, someone call Laura jean covey, friends with benefits type dynamic, secret ‘relationship’, toxic relationships for a hot minute, miscommunication, mean!ellie shows up a bit.. eventual smut. :p .𖥔˚
CHAPTER INDEX ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ :
moodboard playlist pinterest board
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 prologue .✦ 3.5k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. You love love, in a way that you cant quite describe. You spend your nights cuddled up with a romcom on the tv or in your hands. Sue you for being a hopeless romantic, it’s your style! And who can blame you for having a crush on your brother’s cute friend? ── .✦ [ before present pov ]
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 chapter one .✦ 6k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. you finally hop on that flight home, bringing you back to the place that reminds you of everything you’ve tried so hard to forget. Your emotions flourish, and your thoughts run wild, leaving a certain sense of vulnerability in their wake. Shes gotten hotter, and you think you love her again. · · ── .✦ [ current pov ]
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 chapter two .✦ 8k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. summer is always a time for new beginnings, and since you’ve been home your sense of security has been flipped on its back, leaving you to operate like you’re running around without skin, you’ve been stripped of comfort and yet somehow, its the most fun you’ve ever had. Oh, and — its definitely love. · · ── .✦ [ current pov ]
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 chapter three .✦ 8k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. · your queerness seeps through the cracks, threatening to spill out to those who remain in the shadows. You confide in Callie about your seemingly unrequited desire for your brothers bestfriend. Ellie has a new friend.· ── .✦ [ current + past pov ]
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 chapter four .✦ 15k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. · bad decisions have never been your forte, in fact—you usually strayed away from anything that might lead you to melancholy, no matter how much you desired it. but, theres always an exception, especially when the muse was the one and only. you embarrass yourself, and somehow, it ends up working. ── .✦ [ current pov ]
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 chapter five .✦ 13k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. · after years of yearning for no apparent reason, your fate has been sealed. After a night of what seems to be a crack in Ellie’s nonchalance, a relationship begins to blossom. A clandestine ‘camaraderie’ that preserves through the night, and eventually seeps into the daylight. ── .✦ [ current pov , SMUT! ]
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 chapter six .✦ 10k
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃. · to be hidden is to be unloved, or atleast thats how you feel. As your relationship with Ellie blossoms, you begin to grow frustrated with her lack of commitment. And the certain ‘friend’ who seems to constantly put herself in your way, isn’t making things any easier, for anyone. You pull Ellie for a chat and are reminded exactly why you don’t do this, you can only pray it gets easier from here, and that theres some sense knocked into your lover, sooner rather than later. ── .✦ [ current pov + multiple povs ]
DIARY ENTRIES 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ :
· · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 one (chapters 1-2) · · ─ · ᡣ𐭩 two (chapters 3-4)
cute little painfully nerdy 2000s ellie williams x popular bimbo fem reader part 3
since yall hornballs wanted smut so badly 🙄
cw : smut, public sex in class, degradation, ellie’s horny fantasies, wet dreams, plot twist kinda
the bell rings. you don’t rush to your seat—you never do. you glide in late like always, cherry gum in your mouth, tight hot pink juicy couture velour zip up barley zipped up with your black lacy VS push up bra peeking through. a boy stares. you don’t care. you’re too busy reapplying your gloss with your middle finger.
ellie sees you before you see her, she recognizes your heavy, dreamy scent of the love spell body spray from 5 miles away.
she’s already at her desk, hood up, legs bouncing under the table like she’s got an energy drink in her bloodstream. which, honestly? she probably does. her fingers are smudged with pencil and her notebooks half open, little doodles of swords and boobs peeking through the lined paper. she’s not ready. for anything.
mr. brooks clears his throat.
“alright, students. group projects. DNA replication and genetic variation. pages 94 through 99. picked your partners for you.”
groans ripple across the room. you roll your eyes, zoning out as he goes on to list random pairs of students in the class… “david and rebecca, ashley and karen, adrian and braxton, becky and jared-“ then suddenly.
“y/n and… ellie.”
you look up from your manicured hands in your lap instantly, silence. you make a disgusted look. brows furrowed, lips pouted.
but ellie? she jerks in her seat like someone pulled a string in her back. her eyes snap up and lock on you, wide behind her crooked-ass glasses. her whole face goes red—forehead, ears, even her damn neck. she freezes. then immediately starts fumbling with her the spirals on her notebook, like she thinks if she looks busy enough, maybe you’ll ignore her.
you don’t.
you sigh heavily as you take your time walking over, swinging your hips just enough to make two boys whisper. you drop your bag next to her desk. she looks at it like it’s a bomb.
you sit down.
“so,” you say, voice flat, bored, already annoyed. “you gonna write the whole thing or just f*ck yourself to it?”
she chokes. like physically chokes, hand flying to her chest, eyes bugging out. she tries to answer, fails, tries again, and somehow makes it worse.
“i—i don’t—i wasn’t—f*ck mysel-?—no—what—”
you stare. blow a bubble. let it pop, then giggle in her face.
her face is ruined. her mouth opens and closes like a fish. she looks like she wants to die. and then crawl under the desk. and then die again.
you lean in, just a little, enough for your perfume to hit her nose.
“i still remember that sketchbook from last week by the way.”
ellie flinches.
“i wasn’t—you know.. it’s for anatomy,” she blurts, which makes no sense, and she knows it. “not like, your—i didn’t mean your anatomy, just—like—the concept of anatomy, which, like, technically—f*ck—”
you tilt your head.
ellie covers her face with her hands and groans, long and low, like she’s in pain.
“do you touch yourself to those with your hoodie on, or do you take it off to set the mood?”
“please,” she whispers. “please shut up.”
you giggle again, soft and wicked.
adrian—your adrian—is three rows in front of y’all, hearing the whole thing. you haven’t even acknowledged him since class started either.
ellie peeks through her fingers. she’s twitchy. sweaty. miserable. and when you pull your chair closer, she damn near leaps out of her skin.
“we’re gonna get an A,” you hum, dragging her open textbook toward you. “you’re gonna do all the work. and you’re gonna keep your nasty little sketchbook zipped up tight.”
she nods. small. frail.
“say ‘yes, ma’am.’”
“…yes, ma’am.”
you smile. pop another bubble.
this is gonna be fun.
ellie keeps her eyes locked on the textbook. she hasn’t spoken in five minutes. not since the “yes, ma’am.” her handwriting’s shaking. her cheeks are red. her hoodie sleeves are halfway over her fingers again, clenched tight like she’s praying.
you lean back in your seat, legs spread just a little wider, flipping your hair over your shoulder. her eyes flicker for a second—just a second—to the inside of your thigh under the desk.
you catch it.
“are you even paying attention?” you ask, fake sweet. “or are you too busy trying not to cum in your boxers?”
her pencil snaps in half.
“i’m—i’m paying attention,” she mumbles, head down, the tips of her ears red like she’s been slapped. “mitosis. cell cycle. S-phase. DNA replication. i—i know it.”
you hum. press your knee against hers under the desk. she jerks back like she’s been shocked. you look down at her shaky hand on the table. long, twitchy fingers. drum and guitar callused.
slowly, you reach out. grab her wrist. guide it down.
“wh—what are you—” she tries to pull away, but she’s weak. pathetic. you’re stronger. meaner. so much prettier. you press her hand against your bare thigh, just above the hem of your skirt. warm skin. smooth. soft.
she stops breathing.
“f*ck,” she whispers, wide-eyed, voice cracking. “you—you can’t—i’ll f*cking—”
you don’t let go.
“don’t be a p*ssy,” you murmur, eyes half-lidded. “it’s just a little skin, right? nothing you haven’t seen in your nasty little sketches.”
her fingers twitch.
you push her hand higher. just a little.
the edge of your thong peeks out. she squeezes her eyes shut, like she can block it out. but her fingers stay.
shaking. burning. gripping your thigh like it’s keeping her alive. ellie whimpers.
you smile, slow and wicked and keep her hand right where it is. she doesn’t move at first.
your fingers are still around her wrist, soft but firm, like a leash she doesn’t want to escape. her palm is pressed flat to your thigh, skin burning hot, nails barely grazing you. you’re looking ahead like nothing’s happening. like you’re so fucking bored. like her hand being between your legs is just part of your routine.
ellie’s brain? completely fried. ‘f*ck. f*ck. f*ck’ she thought.
she doesn’t know where to look. her eyes are flicking between the worksheet and your lip gloss and your thigh and the window and the corner of the floor like any of it will help her not lose it.
her face is flushed. her mouth’s dry. her hoodie’s too hot and her fingers are twitching because all she can think about is—
‘she’s soft. she’s so soft. i can’t—f*ck—i can’t.’
you’re right next to her. in the flesh. warm. sighing softly. looking down, pencil in hand while pretending to read the textbook like her hand isn’t right there.
and now?
her fingers start to move.
slow. slight. like she doesn’t even realize at first. like muscle memory. like her horniness has taken over completely.
she slides the tips up, just a little.
then down.
tiny little strokes. featherlight. testing you. seeing what she can get away with.
you shift in your seat.
press your legs together.
you don’t look at her. but you don’t stop her either.
so she keeps going.
and her heart is slamming in her chest.
she’s so wet in her boxers, her clit becoming a rapid beating second heartbeat to the point it’s actually painful. ellie thinks she might cum just from this.
her fingers dip slightly beneath the curve of your thigh. under the edge of your thong. just barely.
her breath stutters.
you’re wet. not soaked. not dripping. just warm and soft and slightly damp and f*ckf*ck—
she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. her forehead hits the desk. just for a second. to ground herself.
you look at her finally. say nothing. just smirk. and she knows you know exactly what you’re doing.
she doesn’t say a word. she just keeps stroking.
slow, pathetic, desperate.
and no one can see a thing.
yet, her fingers go still when she feels it. the way your c*nt clenches as she pushes past the edge of your soaked thong.
how easy it is to slip in.
how tight you are. how f*cking warm you are.
like you’ve been waiting.
ellie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding—shaky, low—and stares at your face like it’s the only thing that matters.
you’re still looking at your notes. like this is nothing.
like her fingers aren’t buried inside you right now, moving slow, dragging against that soft spot she’s imagined so many times her body could do it with her eyes closed.
and it kinda is.
her fingers start working in that perfect rhythm she’s practiced—on herself, in the dark, in the shower, during her breakdowns after seeing you in a mini skirt.
she curls them just right.
presses deep.
slides out slick and slow, then back in, faster.
you twitch.
your thighs shift.
but you don’t look at her.
and that’s what makes her lose it.
“f*ck,” she whispers. her head is down, lips barely moving. “you’re gonna make me cum in my f*ckin’ boxers, sh*t.”
you don’t flinch. you just turn the page in the textbook, lip caught between your teeth.
ellie’s eyes flicker to your mouth.
her fingers thrust deeper. faster. the sound is obscene but muffled by the low hum of the class, the hum of the lights, the buzz of old ac.
“this p*ssy’s so f*ckin’ warm,” she whispers, voice cracked. “you’re gonna—geez—you’re gonna ruin me.”
you pulse around her. her legs shake.
she’s gritting her teeth. trying not to grunt. trying not to moan.
“can’t believe i get to finger you in bio,” she breathes, nose brushing your shoulder. “you’re so mean to me—so f*ckin’ mean—and you’re so wet. you like this? letting the loser do this to you?”
your pencil scratches across the paper like nothing’s happening.
you’re breathing harder now. lips parted. eyes still down.
but your hips start moving—tiny little rocks forward against her fingers—and that’s when ellie knows you’re close.
she curves them deep, presses her palm against your clit, and starts pumping harder.
you clamp your thighs.
grip the edge of your worksheet.
swallow a whimper.
“good f*ckin’ girl,” she mutters, barely audible. “take it. just take it. i’ll make you cum so hard you won’t walk to 5th period.”
and you?
you turn your head just slightly.
lips brush her ear.
“then do it, perv.”
ellie’s gone. she’s imagined this so many times. in her sketchbook. in the shower. in her f*cking dreams.
you sitting on her lap, whispering in her ear, your lip gloss smearing on her neck, your tits bouncing while you ride her neon green strap—
you calling her a freak while grinding on her face—
you licking her fingers while sitting on her bed like a brat—
suddenly, she jerks awake with a sharp inhale, eyes wide, hoodie tangled around her arms, face flushed, sheets kicked off the bed.
her room’s still dark, lit only by the faint glow of her lava lamp and the blinking red light of her PS3. her sketchbook’s open next to her—flipped to a half-finished drawing of you sitting on her lap with your thong around one ankle.
her hand’s still in her boxers.
and yeah… they’re soaked.
disgusting. tragic. predictable.
ellie groans. drags her forearm over her face like it’ll wipe the sin away. mutters to herself.
“f*ck”
her voice cracks. she rolls onto her back, staring at the popcorn textured ceiling. her stomach flips. her hips twitch.
and suddenly she’s grinding her hand into her boxers again—again—because the image won’t leave her brain.
your face when you bit your lip.
your whisper in her ear.
your p*ssy squeezing her fingers like it needed her.
it’s too bad this is one of them. just another one of her pathetic dreams.
synopsis: being your brother's best friend, Ellie is always at your house, and it pisses you off badly. One day, you decide to show her how much you hate her.
contents: bbf!ellie, spoiled reader, alcohol consumption, mentions of driving under the influence (do NOT do that EVER), switch!ellie, switch!reader, almost getting caught, smut.
wc: 3k
part 2
And there he was, in all his glory, Jake laughed out loud with a red cup in his hands, some boys talking to him, and by his side, as always, stood Ellie.
“Y/n!” your brother yelled with a bright smile, opening his arms as you entered the room. His smile suddenly faded though, when Jake saw that you didn't smile back. “Is everything okay?” concern dripped from his furrowed brows.
Jake was an asshole, as all the older brothers usually are, but sometimes – almost never – he showed that he cared for you. When he wasn't showing that he cared, he still did, but in silence, I mean, he couldn't risk his careless bad boy facade.
“I'm tired. This music is fucking with my eardrums and the floor is disgusting and sticky” Your voice was thick like honey, a small pout forming on your mouth.
With the side of your alcohol glossed eyes, you saw Ellie rolling her own.
Jake pushed himself out of the counter looking at his watch “Damn, it's pretty late.” He stated, nodding his head up and down, the alcohol not helping his small brain.
“And mom and dad will be here early in the morning,” you added, doing your part in convincing him to end this nasty party.
“Alright everyone, party's over!” Jake screamed and a big toothed smile opened in your pretty face.
You pushed your back against the counter this time, grabbing the cup your brother had left there and bringing it to your shining lips.
“Spoiled brat.” Ellie murmured under her breath by your side.
“You're just jealous that things don't happen the way you want, when you want.” Your shoulders lift in disdain.
“Yeah, sure” she looked you up and down before pushing herself off the counter and disappearing in the sweaty crowd of people complaining about the end of the party.
Weirdo. A hot weirdo though.
Jake emerges in front of you like magic. “Gonna need ‘ya to do me a favor” his voice came out sweet, just like every other time that he wanted something.
Your brow came up in suspicion.
“What?”
“I need you to start cleaning the house…” You opened your mouth to disagree, but he spoke on top of it “Just the basics, trash on the trash can. I'll call someone to clean it up before our parents come back.”
“No fucking way. Look at this place! There's trash everywhere”
“It's not negotiable y/n, Ellie's gonna stay here with you while I drive some friends home, alright?”
Ellie appears by your side smiling widely at your disgusted expression.
“She's going to be fine dude, it's just some cleaning, it's not going to kill her. Right princess?” her voice dripped with sarcasm, but Jake was way too much out to notice it.
You stared at her with fake disgust on your face, your eyes rolling back so hard that it was as if they were stuck in the back of your head.
“Alright, take care of her Ellie”
She smiled lazily.
“I'm serious. Don't let any of these drunk dudes near her.
“Sure thing”
Jake yelled at some people out in his wake, giving his fingers at those who complained.
“So…” Ellie said, stretching the word as long as she could while watching you grab trash bags in one of the cabinets.
“Don't start”
“Damn, calm down babe, haven't even said anything.”
You reached down to start cleaning the house, grabbing disgusting red cups off the floor with one hand while holding the trash bag in the other.
“I would like it if it stayed that way” you didn't bother to look at her as you spoke. “It is not like anything that leaves your mouth has some value or something.”
Behind you, Ellie clicked her tongue and stared shamelessly at your body in the awkward position you were in.
“Are you gonna help or not?” Her deep green eyes had started to burn holes in your back, you couldn't pretend not to feel her staring anymore.
Looking over your shoulder, you see that fucking lazy smile over her lips once again, as she started to collect the red cups as well.
“You know, my mouth does more than just say shit that you don't find valuable.”
“Excuse me?” You turned around to look at the auburn-haired girl.
“You said that nothing that leaves my mouth has value, well, my mouth does more than that.”
The way she said that so shamelessly made you want to strangle her. How could she say such things in your own house without even flushing?
Your face and neck burned in flames.
Without responding or looking at her, you went to the living room with the silent excuse to clean there.
You lowered the volume of the music, not turning it off completely, but leaving a comfortable background sound. The living room was empty, besides a pair of girls leaving the house.
Sighting at the sight of the mess in your usually so shiny cleaned living room, you keep collecting red cups and cigarette butts from the floor, the couch, and basically every fucking where.
Your shiny pink nails don't fit this activity, you weren't born to do this, actually, this is probably the first time that you are cleaning anything besides your own bedroom.
“If you keep with that disgusted expression, it will probably burn in your face and stay there forever.” the voice entered the room with her.
“Shut up.”
“You're so spoiled it's actually unbelievable” she let out a low chuckle as you scoffed.
“You're in my fucking house and you think you can tell me shit like this?” You turn around just to find her spread up on the couch lighting what seems like a joint.
The way she acted like this was her house too, always makes you want to punch her in the face. She and Jake were inseparable since kindergarten, that's true, but it doesn't give her the power to own your place.
“What?” she looks up at you from her comfortable position when your eyes don't leave her form.
“What? What do you mean? Come fucking help, Williams, you heard Jake!”
Ellie calmly inhales the smoke
“Yeah I did, I don't believe you did though. He said ‘take care of her’ not ‘help her’, so do your job baby, I'm gonna sit here and enjoy the view while you do so.” That was the last straw.
Without thinking, you grabbed a cup – with whatever liquid was inside it – from the center table and threw it in her face.
Ellie stayed still for a couple of seconds. Eyes closed in shock, the joint was drowned in her hand. You did your best to hold your laugh given the circumstances, but you just couldn't.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” she almost yelled, trying her best to dry her alcohol-wet eyes.
“What is wrong with me? You! That's what's wrong with me! This is my house, so stop acting like I'm your maid or some shit!” You didn't bother to lower your voice as you walked to her pointing your finger at her face.
What you didn't expect was that you would slip on the liquid on the floor and fall on your knees, face on her breasts.
Ellie let out such a loud laugh that you thought she was insane. Shame burned your face when you attempted to get up and stumbled on your feet.
“Oh, now I see. All this attitude simply because you wanted your pretty lips around my nipples? Damn babe, that's insane.” She couldn't stop laughing, and that just made you angrier.
How could this girl be so fucking pervert and shameless?
“You wish, Williams, you fucking wish. Bet your biggest wet dream is something like that.” You finally got up, taking your hair out of your face and trying to look unbordered.
Her face went still for a second, but just a small second, you couldn't catch it if you were distracted, then, she smiled lazily – that damn lazy smile that pissed you off so badly.
“Yes, it is. What are you going to do about it?”
Your face dropped in disbelief.
“What? You said and I confirmed”
“I- i didn't mean it that way- i” you stumbled over your words, not knowing what to say or how to react.
“Well, it looked like you did.” Ellie put her hands on your hips and instantly put you on her lap, your pretty thighs around her, your knees touching her hips.
You didn’t know how to react, so you didn’t. You just stood there, faces so close you could feel her breath on your lips. You could feel everything: your tight dress rolled up and exposing your panties, her firm hands holding you down so hard as if she felt that you could melt onto her fingers – you actually could.
“Ellie, what are you doing?” She didn't answer, she just smiled proud of herself.
When you noticed, Ellie’s lips were brushing yours, not kissing, just silently letting you know that she wouldn’t do anything if you don’t prove that you want it.
Do you want it? You surely do, you want to kiss those pretty plump lips since forever. But you couldn’t just give in like that, could you?
Her face got close – if it was even possible. You breathe caught on your throat in anticipation.
“I’m not doing anything if you don’t take the first step,” Ellie’s lips were so close, it was like heaven millimetres from you.
But those eyes, those lustful eyes, that made you lose it.
“I hate you” was the last thing you said before pulling her by the collar of her hoodie and crashing your lips together so hard that your teeth caught each other, but it didn’t stop you. Nothing could stop you now.
Her hands were gripping and holding you everywhere – thighs, waist, hips, boobs, ass, everything.
The sounds Ellie was making against your lips were driving you insane, your fisted hands on her clothes leaving the place shamelessly to go under it.
Ellie broke the kiss with a small line of spit connecting you two. Her heavily breathing making your pussy clench around nothing.
“That doesn't quite look like hate, you know?” she played it off, as if her pupils weren't blown wide and her hips weren't bucking up against your heated core.
“Let me show how much i hate you then” you said against her neck, leaving lazy kisses on your way as your hands found her nipples free under her hoodie.
Ellie let out a heavy sigh when your fingertips touched her. Her back arching, quivering even more when you got on your knees.
“Oh god” the whisper left her messy kissed lips with desperate dripping from it.
“I'm not god babe, it's not him who's making you feel this way, it's me. Call my name, not his.” Your voice dripped with thick desire.
You fluttered your lashes at her, not minding the puddle of alcohol under your knees. Your hands pulling at her hoodie, eyes hungrily looking at her as if Ellie were the god here.
“Can you take these off for me? Pretty please?” Your forced pout resulted in a desperate Ellie ripping her top out in no time.
Your mouth salivated at the sight. Hard brownish nipples centimeters from your pretty smeared lipgloss lips.
“Y/n please baby, please…” You couldn't hold the small chuckle you let out at her breathless voice before attaching your lips to her nipple. It fitted perfectly inside your mouth, like it was made to be there.
You sucked and licked, taking your time while watching her back arched off the couch, hearing her heavy breathes and the pleads of your name leaving her mouth. It was a sight for sore eyes.
Ellie brought her hand to your hair, making a messed up ponytail to hold your head in place. Her free hand came to your face, pressing your cheeks so your mouth would suck harder against her. You did not complain though, the feeling of her inside your mouth was heavenly.
It was delicate, if it were a person who weren't paying attention to Ellie, they would not notice the slight movements her hips were making against the sewing of her jeans.
Before you know it, Ellie's moans are growing high pitched, her hands holding you harder, and her hips moving faster and faster, until it finally comes to an end.
Your lips let out of her with a loud and wet pop and you look up at her, just to have the most delicious vision of your life: Ellie Williams catching her breath after an orgasm.
“Did you just came in your pants?” you ask already knowing the answer, but you just couldn't lose the opportunity to mess with her.
“Can you not?” she murmured with a raspy voice and closed eyes, pushing you to lay on her lap and just be there while she catches her breath.
Breathing lightly onto her neck sweetly, you get yourself comfortable on her lap and circle your arms around her naked torso.
And then, the doorknob clicks.
babes, feel free to talk to me through my asks, i love talking to you 💕
cw: smoking(obv), mean Ellie, suggestive but no smut, Ellie's readers brothers best friendships
"hey... you" Ellie smiles up at you. she's sitting on your porch steps, blunt between her slender fingers. "you forget my name?" you raise your eyebrows, standing above her arms crossed. it was a cold night, even colder in your pajama shorts and grey hoodie. "sorry..." she shrugs and eyes you for a second before saying your name. "..right?" you nod, watching her bring the joint to her chapped lips again and inhaling. she smirks to herself, in that egotistical way she does in moments like this. moments like this being; when she saw the way you looked at her when she was arm wrestling with your brother. or the day after you accidentally liked a photo deep in the depths of her Instagram at 2am. the photo was as bad as it could've been, Ellie staring with low eyes into the mirror and flexing. same shit eating grin.
you watch the smoke escape her lips, a small breath escaping you as you step back. "sit?" she nods towards the space beside her on the step. you should say no. you should go back to your room. you should do what you do every time she extends anything vaguely similar to an olive branch and take care of your horniness with a hand in your pants while you scroll on her Instagram. "sure" but you don't. your stupid. you sit beside her, smiling just barely. shamelessly, she watches you. her eyes go to your lips then flit for not even a second at the loss of figure in your hoodie before settling on your thighs. she smirks again, drags her eyes up slowly to your own. "cmere." she says, eyebrow raising like she dares you to do so. so you do. you scoot closer. your knee presses against hers and your hands that are beginning to sweat sit pressed against the cold wood of the step under you.
"you wanna fuck me..." it's a statement left with the me fading. she wants you to reply this time. no more nods or actions to speak for you. but when you don't she huffs out a laugh and takes another hit. she holds it in and looks at your lips. your not breathing either. she reaches her free hand up and grabs your face, calloused finger tips pressing into the softness of your cheek. you look at her, nervous eyes flicking between the 2 green, confident eyes staring back at you. she leans forward. you swear she's gonna kiss you but she let's out a breath. the smell of weed hangs heavy in front of you and you close your eyes and turn away, her hand now pressed against your knee as she laughs. your eyes are watery as you smile slightly at her. the smell of weed, of her really, clings to the air between you and you can't help but laugh with her. you aren't sure why. maybe from shock because... what is happening? or maybe because you realized that if you didn't laugh with her she'd be laughing at you. but you laughed till hers died down.
𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ small character study on my take of brother’s best friend ellie williams, half loser, half cocky, wholly a stoner and sorta in love with you ✷ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
she lingers now, you notice effortlessly. every time your eyes fail their decades-long training—setting boundaries, gaze averting, mind wandering—there she is. a sliver of circle shaped sun-drenched forest green, shrinking with each glance from pupils dilated, an ever-expanding benevolent black hole of quiet mystery that beckons you for a swim inside.
ellie williams sits with one hand on your brother’s video game console, the other curled into a fist, tight, as if holding something delicate, as if keeping something from spilling. your name, maybe. or worse—your wanting. if she opened her palm, would it be there, trembling in the lines of her skin, the shape of your yearning pressed deep into her flesh? you wonder if she feels it the way you do, the way it hums low beneath your ribs, restless, aching. but she does not look at you. not directly. she’s just seemingly in eternal waiting for your eyes to find her shape, in order for her to capture yours hostage. caught you, the spring of evergreen irises would say.
she rolls you flowers and tea herbs when they have weed, so you only feel half-excluded, but somehow wholly special. as if you belong, but in a way that is softer, carved out just for you. she laughs when you choke on the smoke—an almost giggle, something bright and fleeting, something she might have swallowed if she’d thought twice. but she doesn’t. she lets you hear it. lets it bloom between you, light and golden, the kind of sound that lingers in the air long after it’s gone.
and when your brother isn’t looking—when he’s too deep in the kind of high that turns people into statues, his eyes fixed on something distant, unreadable—she presses her knuckles against your back, slow, deliberate. a touch meant to ground, to soothe, but all it does is send you drifting. the warmth of her lingers longer than it should, more than it has to, drowning out the edges of your thoughts until there is nothing left but the feeling of her there. you get drugged out too, those days. on her.
your brother’s back in his room now, drinking gallons of water like he’s convinced he’ll dry out without it, half-believing he’s a fish from a bad batch he thankfully didn’t share. ellie laughs, loud and sudden, the kind of laughter that takes up space, that fills the whole room. it’s bolder than before, more her than what she she does with only you, raw and raspy, something unpolished, something that might cut if you got too close. and you are too close, aren’t you? because you’re looking again.
she’s half-smiling, and in the moonlight, it catches like a smirk, sharp in the right places, softened by the dark. she tilts her head, eyes gleaming. caught you.
“you wanna try something real this time?” she asks, the blunt extended between you.
you only ever knew how to nod towards her.
she watches as you take it, settling back on her palms like she’s waiting for a show. something in the way she grins makes your hands unsteady, but you bring it to your lips anyway. inhale. hold. the burn is immediate, a slow creep of warmth unfurling from your chest outward. ellie huffs out a laugh through her nose. “oh, you’re about to cough so hard, dude.”
you shake your head, stubborn, the smoke curling behind your teeth. she raises her brows, waiting. and then it hits. it claws up your throat, rips out of you in a fit of coughing so violent your eyes water. ellie all but folds in half, laughing. “holy shit, i called it,” she wheezes, knocking her fist against your shoulder. “should’ve put money on that.”
you try to glare at her, but it’s hard to do when you’re still catching your breath. “shut up.”
“nah, this is great,” she says, still laughing, voice all scratchy delight. “your face right now—jesus.” she mimics your expression, eyes wide, mouth parted in dramatic horror, and you groan, shoving at her arm. she lets you. doesn’t move away. you don’t know if it’s the weed or the way the air between you has always felt charged, but when you look at her again, she’s already looking back. head tilted. amused. eyes heavy-lidded in the dark.
“not bad, huh?” she murmurs.
the weed or her? you don’t ask. just shake your head. just take another hit, a safer smaller one this time, like you should take everything ellie gives you in homeopathic doses. from the pressure of her watching you take another hit, you do it better—slow, steady, the way she does. her smirk twitches like she wants to make another joke, but it dissolves against her tongue like sugar. instead ellie just watches, just leans in, just tilts her head like she’s examining something she hasn’t quite figured out yet and it burns stronger than your throat.
“look at you,” she says, soft, teasing. “all grown up.”
you exhale slow, the smoke slipping from your lips in a lazy curl, and it’s impossible to ignore the way her gaze catches on your mouth.
“shut up,” it seems to be all you know how to say when you’re with her, but it doesn’t land the way it should, ever. though especially not when her face is this close, when the warmth of her laughter still hangs in the air between you, something heady, something thick. honeysuckle.
ellie hums, tilting her chin, considering. “nah, i don’t think i will.” and then she’s reaching out. fingers grazing your wrist, tracing up, up, until they hook gentle around the blunt between your fingers. she doesn’t take it right away. just lets her touch linger, a question she doesn’t ask out loud.
you swallow. “you gonna take it or just hold my hand?”
her smirk sharpens, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath it. something that makes your breath hitch.
“dunno,” she murmurs. “you want me to hold your hand?”
you scoff, roll your eyes, but your pulse betrays you, hammering loud in your ears. she’s still close. too close. her fingers brush yours as she finally takes the blunt, as she brings it to her lips, and you should look away, you really should, but you don’t. can’t. she exhales, slow, and the smoke drifts between you, warm and hazy.
“open your mouth,” she says, quiet.
your stomach flips. “what?”
she huffs a laugh, amused, but there’s something different in her eyes now, something intent. “just—trust me.”
you do. you always have.
so you part your lips, and ellie leans in, even closer, until you can see the tiny scar on her eyebrow, the way her pupils are blown wide. she tilts her head just so and exhales, slow and warm, right into your waiting mouth. your eyes flutter shut. her hand—god, when did she touch your face?—is warm against your jaw, fingers pressing just lightly enough to keep you still, to keep you here, breathing her in.
the smoke fades, but she doesn’t pull away. neither do you. there’s no space left between you now, just the heat of her palm, the ghost of her breath against your lips. your pulse stutters, waiting, waiting. and then she moves, just barely, just enough and her lips are on yours.
her lips are chapped against the soft press of yours, rough in a way that makes you shiver. her tongue is wet against your own lips, slipping past them like a question she already knows the answer to. her hands are on your cheekbones, fingertips digging in, dragging at your skin like she’s trying to make sure you’re real—like she’s kneading you into something pliant, something hers. like you’re bread dough under her touch, like she’s shaping you to fit into her.
and oh, you do. you do, you do, you do.
you don’t know who moves first after that, only that suddenly it’s all heat, all urgency, her hands slipping to your jaw, your neck, the collar of your shirt like she doesn’t know where to hold you best, like she wants all of you at once. you tilt into her, part your lips wider, let her take what she wants because god, you want it too. want her breath in your mouth, her hands on your skin, the taste of her in your lungs. she exhales into you, a quiet, shaky thing, and you swear you feel it everywhere. in your chest, in your fingertips, in the space between your ribs where something tight and aching has been sitting for too long. her nose nudges yours when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at you, her pupils blown wide, lips pinker than before, shining in the dim light. her breath fans warm over your skin.
and then she grins. lazy, dazed. cocky.
“yeah,” she murmurs, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “definitely better than weed.”
. . . ۶ৎ bbf!hockey!ellie. hockey!ellie who's been best friends with your brother since third grade. bbf!hockey!ellie who always comes over after practice, always forgets her gear in the hallway, and always steals glances at you. bbf!hockey!ellie who talks to your brother before games like she's not thinking about how you're gonna be in the stands. you only come to the games "for your brother." that's the story. what, why don't you believe me? that's what you tell everyone. but she notices the way your eyes never really follow the puck. bbf!hockey!ellie who starts playing dirtier when she knows you're watching. bbf!hockey!ellie who checks someone hard enough to rattle the glass, then skates away like she didn't just look straight at you after. bbf!hockey!ellie who waits until your brother's not looking to nudge your knee with her stick through the bench rails. bbf!hockey!ellie who asks "you cold?" like it's not an excuse to offer you her hoodie, the one that smells like nice cologne and winter air. bbf!hockey!ellie who pretends not to care that you only cheer for her. "ugh, my sister's coming again" and she huffs like she hates you even though she's already thinking about what to say. bbf!hockey!ellie who gets into it with an opponent and doesn't stop until someone drags her off. "what the hell was that?" your brother yells, walking up to her half confused half livid. she shrugs. "she said something." "about you?" "no." "about me?" "…no." (it was about you.) bbf!hockey!ellie who leans against the bleachers after the game with a bruised lip and messy hair. "you coming next week?" "don't know. depends if my brother lets me." she takes a step closer. dangerous. "you know i don't care what he thinks, right?" "then why haven't you asked me out already?" she sighs. you blink. "well, you always come because he wants to watch a game," she murmurs breathlessly, helmet dangling from her fingers. "tell me, baby, do you ever come just for me?" you grab her jersey, pull her in, and whisper, "win or lose… it's always you, els." and then she kisses you like she's been waiting all season.
thinkin abt eating bbf!ellie out while she’s gaming and on a call with reader’s brother ☺️
she would have to keep muting her headset every 30 seconds bc she couldn’t keep quiet and eventually would just toss her controller on the floor and end the call so she could fuck reader stupid while reader’s brother is spamming her w texts asking where she went 😭
-🪷
ok u got me with this… 💗🪷
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
ʚɞ it was purely innocent at first, you swore to god it was. what’s so wrong about sitting on your girlf— well, that isnt quite right. on your frien— god, thats not exactly it either. on your… brother’s best friends (that’s better) lap while she’s playing a video game? she let you in, in fact, she signaled you to come closer with a small pat on her thigh before you did. “m’not a dog…” you scoffed, pouting before rolling your eyes, desperately trying to hide the fact that even that mere, simple gesture made it feel funny in your stomach. “no, but you’re my—“ she stopped, and grazed the corner of her mouth with her tongue. “just come warm me up”
ʚɞ that was her excuse for everything. wanted to hold your hand after splitting you raw? it’s just to warm her up. move closer while her arm is loosely placed on your chest while “hugging” you from behind while laying on the bed? come warm her up. she’d never admit she just yearned to feel you close, craved to touch you at any given moment, as if you’d slip away if she didn’t.
ʚɞ she was wearing her headset, and a couple of baby hairs frizzled up on the top of her head. both hands on the controller, wrapped tightly around your waist, continuously yelling at someone you guessed was a complete stranger she was playing with. “who are you talking to?” you questioned, trying to stop yourself from grinning at how cute she looked with her tongue poking out of her mouth when she was hyperfocused on the screen. “shh…” she sushed, slightly blowing out her eyes. “your brother”
“he can hear me?!” fuck. that came out way too loud. she abruptly placed her left palm on your lips, to shut you up. “just a sec, man” she spoke into the mic. “you cant make any noise” she whispered, and when you winced, she smirked. “just watch, and keep quiet”
ʚɞ being quiet, was not exactly your forte. especially not when you were supposed to (it was as if someone placed a red button with a huge sign of “do not press!”— you have to press.) and especially, while you were sat on ellie’s lap, and she kept sniffling and huffing and cursing those little “fuck” and “shit” under her breath and the air she blew, caressed your neck and made you shiver and… her hand, on that damn controller, her fingers circling the silicone ball, her thumb, to be more specific, and it’s a little fucking distracting— how she happens to bounce her leg, making you bounce up and down with it’s movement, every time she's upset someone had killed her in the game, and how when she wins a round, she lays herself back on the chair, spreads her legs and cockily murmurs into the mic “fucking got you, asshole”
ʚɞ did she know what she was doing, as she slapped your thigh when she won the 3rd round in a row? did she know that when she bounced you up and down, your tummy flipped and your eyes rolled back? even if she did know, what you did next was so not fair to her.
ʚɞ you pressed your ass deep inside her lap, making the fat squish down on her thigh, and she cleared her throat, and chuckled. clearly, it did something to her, her throat feeling suddenly dry, but she didn’t want you to know. you stopped, and she readjusted herself, straightening her back. “i’m out of fuc…ing ammo” and with that, you pressed your ass down even deeper into ellie’s lap, cause her face to twitch in the slightest. “give me some fuc—“ now, you purely rocked your ass back and forth on her crotch, staring at the screen, attempting to appear as aloof as you could. it made her stretch her head back, and huff out a small, shaky breath. she placed her hand on your thigh, and squeezed hard. it wasn’t a nice, thoughtful gesture, it was a sign to stop fucking moving, you’ve been warned. she was on a winning streak and you were about to ruin it.
ʚɞ your shorts were truly way too short, bordering on underwear, the material was truly too thin, and she could feel every inch of you through her sweats. your thighs, your feet rocking back and forth and kicking her on purpose, and your ass who grew to be the biggest distraction of all— “just a sec dude, im pausing just… taking a water break”
she was going to lose, and she knew it.
she took the headset off, and placed it, no— threw it on the table. “what are you doing?” she murmured in a low, raspy voice. you managed to catch your breath, and attempted to sound as angelic and innocent as you possibly could. “nothing…?” you quipped, and smiled softly. ellie slightly nodded her head up and down. “keep doing nothing, see where that gets you”
“not doing anything, swear” and the way you put your hand on your chest, right where your heart is, and then palmed it to give it the smallest, gentlest squeeze… “jesus fucking christ” she huffed, and stared down. she wasn’t going to get out of this, and she certainly wasn't going to win.
ʚɞ she spread her thighs wider, with you sat directly on her thigh, and put her headset back on. two can play this game. she didn’t want your brother to know about you two, and you didn’t want him to know even more. you moved yourself to sit right on her center, right where her crotch is, and the wheeze that came out of her mouth— “fffuck”
“you good, ellie?” that was your brother’s voice popping out of her headset. you were that close to her face. your cheek pressed up on her’s, and you moaned inside her ear, a small “aaah, ellie” and you knew that would get her, because nothing made her wetter than those damn moans, and when you added her name in the mix—she cleared her throat, and if you saw the way her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyelids simply resting shut because she had to physically restrain herself, you’d have probably started whining and begging. “m’good, yeah—keep going” was she talking to you, or to him? you made up your mind. she was talking to you.
ʚɞ you grinded youself back and forth again and again, and you knew you rubbed her right where she needed you. you pressed down hard, and it hit right on her clit. “god” she huffed, her breaths growing shaky and uneven. she bumped her crotch into your ass and it made you squeal like a chew toy. “sh— shut up” she groaned, and hastily placed her palm on your mouth again. “shut the fuck up bro”. it was truly disgusting, how turned on you were by grinding yourself up against her, letting her clothed crotch hump your ass. ellie, desperately dug her palm extra hard on the controller, as she felt a glob of slick leaking out of her cunt, because she knew that if she let it go, her hand would immediately drop down to your pussy, and start fucking you raw on the chair.
ʚɞ the wet, sticky patch in your underwear grew bigger and bigger every time you bounced, circling your ass in fast, needy movements on her crotch as if you were trying to win a race. ellie's mind left the game already, completely blind to what was happening on the screen, but kept on pretending. it was funny to her, truly, how pathetic you looked. your movements growing messy, sweat sticking down your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth, and she almost let you use her body to cum, and you swore you almost did. your small chocked out breaths were growing heavier and needier, and you huffed small whispers of her name in broken little sentences. “mmhm el-lie” she smirked, and placed her hand up on the small mic to block the obscenity that was about to escape her lips; "about to cum in those little fucking panties? hm? you’re so fucking slutty”
ʚɞ and thats exactly when you stopped, and peeled your shaky body off of her. she seemed confused for a second, because god she was loving it, the way you tried to get her flustered and turned out a needy, flustered, moaning mess yourself. she didn’t even need to do anything, just purely exist, for you to nearly cum inside your shorts. her lips curled into to a small, teasing smile. “what are you doing?” she mouthed. you got down on your knees, placing yourself directly in front of her crotch. ellie hovered over you in a manspread, and you put your chin right on the chair. “nothing” you mouthed back, and gave her a small pout. she huffed, as her game character stood idly on the ground, a black rifle in her hand, and your brother paced nearer and nearer. you placed your hands on her thighs, and batted your eyelashes.
she sighed, and gazed at you with a prying look.
“you’re gonna fucking kill me”
“hell fucking yes i am” your brother exclaimed, muffled in her headset.
ʚɞ you didn’t even peel the grey sweats out of her body, you straight up yanked them down. what you saw… didn’t disappoint you in the slightest. a wet spot, perhaps even bigger than yours, making her black boxers take even a darker shade of black. you let out a shaky “oh my… god”, as she slid off of the chair, her eyes rolling back. “m’playing… just keep fucking going i’m playing” again, she wasn’t talking to you, or was she?
she looked at you again, warning you. you blinked slowly, trying to tease her as much as you could. ellie's eyes squinted, and she hesitated for a moment. she brought her hand down and caressed the top of your head. although she was gentle, you could tell how crazy you were driving her. she bucked her hips forward, and mouthed; “lick”
ʚɞ firstly, you gave a small lick to the soft fabric, and felt her tangy sweet taste just merely grazing your pink muscle. then, she aggressively patted her hand on the top of your head, again, and made you look up at her. her eyes turned a darker shade of emerald green, and she looked angry. “dont play with me” she mouthed, and squeezed your cheeks together. she gave the right one a small pat, and then a stinging little slap, making you yelp. she was in control, and she was going to use you.
ʚɞ she placed the controller on your fucking head, and pushed her soaking boxers down, to lay loosely wrapped aound her ankles. ellie pushed your face forward to meet her weeping core, and you immediately stuck your tongue out, to gift a delicate, slow lick to her glistening, peachy pink folds. you pushed it inside of her hole, and she clenched right on it. she gripped the controller harder, and looked absolutely gone. no matter how hard she pushed your head, you didn’t dare to ever meet her clit, the brat that you are, because you thought it was so much more fun to watch her suffer. “mmfuck” she groaned, “fuck— y-you man” and the way she whimpered right into the mic; “m’good dude just— fuck just my arm hurts” and looked downwards to give you a look that was purely warning you— keep on playing with her like that and she’d fucking make it hurt.
ʚɞ it was torturous, and she really got truly delirious, the way in which you licked around her cunt, stopping your movements to plant a simple, delicate little kiss on her thigh, just to hear her respond with a throaty groan, look down at you with her bangs sticking to her forehead, hand shaking around the black controller, biting her lip hard— because if she didn't, she would have moaned so loud she'd get kicked out of your family's home for fucking with your brother's precious sister. she shook her thigh to get you off of it, and it signaled to stop fucking teasing. "I can'— fuck— man fuck, im gonna fucking— lose the fucking game" she stutters, sounding like a complete idiot, biting her fist hard and twisting her face, her jaw clenched so tight because if he hears her, he's gonna think she's either about to pass completely out, or think she's in heat— and the fact that you won't, absolutely refuse to give her needy clit any attention, and the way you look so concentrated on torturing her, keeping your eyes fixated on her’s, acting all brave because you know she cant talk, and cant do anything because she’s fucking “busy” oh, you pissed her off— your mouth stuffed with her cunt, looking up to her as if you're not trying to kill her;
nope. she can't do this anymore.
she grabbed the back of your neck forcefully, and pulled yourself off of her. you pout, and then you're slightly terrified, because the controller just met the floor with a loud thud.
"i'll be back in 5 minutes" she breathlessly talks into the mic.
“swear— five fucking minutes, gimme five”
ʚɞ you both stare at each other for a moment, as if you're communicating with just looks, and she lifts herself off of the chair and you pounce back, but she's quicker than you.
you dont know how you find yourself pushed against the mattress, with her hand around your throat. she's not pressing, it's just wrapped around it, and she's angry.
"you fucking..." you look to the side, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. the wall, apparently, has a lot to say.
"look at me" she whispers, and forces you to turn your head around and face her. freckles splattered all over her face, you try and concentrate on them but she's chasing your eyes.
ʚɞ she's too quick, it's all too fucking quick and you whine so loud, your back arching off of the bed and she presses you down, shoves her hand inside of your panties and chuckles; "you're a fucking... you're so fucking..." she’s breathless, and famished, because she doesn't even finish that sentence before her lips are on yours, hips jerking forward, as soon as she feels the puddle, or the sea, that's right inside your panties.
"fucking tease"
ʚɞ you swear you’re vibrating on her hand. “pl—ease” you plead, your voice whiney and quiet because all of a sudden, ellie has the upper arm, and you, poor you— can’t tease her anymore. “please what?” she coos. “please ellie…” and she cups your tits, both of them, and squeezes them together so tight it makes you leak down your thigh.
“s’not good enough” she tsk’s, bringing her forehead to meet yours. she merely hovers over your clit, and it’s that friction you were looking for so hard and—
her phone buzzes.
“where the fuck are you?”
“?”
“????”
“hello?”
she places the phone screen in front of you, pinches your chin with her index finger and her thumb, makes sure you actually look, and types;
“i’m fucking your sister, brb”
your breath hitches, and she chuckles, deeply and mockingly, like shes making fun of you.
“should i press send?” she teases.
“no…” you stutter, and yet again, attempt to wear the purest, most angelic and divine expression on your face. “oh… no?” she mocks, plunging a finger inside of you deep, cooing at how you gasp silently, imitating your gasp right back to you.
“nonono” you blabber incoherently, and she’s not even moving her finger, just letting you warm it inside.
